Ascidias waiting in the ocean for
their breakfast, without coffee, I presume,
together with sea unicorns galore,
lie hidden now beneath the plangent plume.
It seems you don’t expect me to explain
what all these creatures mean to me but ask
incessantly, it’s driving me insane,
about creations that my mental mask
conceals from all the world. Should I reveal
to you the many ways that I have sinned
I do not know if that would help me heal,
for I am like a fish you’ve trapped in wind.